


Linear Time -, Fucked-Up Time *

by godofwine



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 01:56:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/144076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godofwine/pseuds/godofwine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one ever promised that the never-can-die time traveller lifestyle was a glamourous thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Linear Time -, Fucked-Up Time *

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to kiss_her_theta for the beta!

*  
 _And all I ever learned from love is how to shoot at someone who out drew you._  
-Rufus Wainwright, _Hallelujah_

*

You're dying, just like everybody else. Maybe you've died already, regenerated before noticing.

It happens.

John Hart is dead beside you, but sometimes, in-between breaths, you think he opens his eyes and says, "Not going to save me then?"

But that's impossible. John Hart's not you, and he's not going to come back from dead. _Good_ , you think, except you're dying too, and you'll keep dying until maybe one final time, the pain will be too much. The energy of being dragged back from nothingness to nothingness will be too much. Maybe you'll get lazy and you'll really be dead.

But that's impossible.

You wish it wasn't. You always did.

When Gray comes, you say, "So this is really the end." You make sure to use a period.

"No, Jack," she says, "It's a beginning."

Everything begins with death. You think that's ironic, almost.

Gray says, "Go," and you say, "Ok."

You think, _Ok._

You think, _Fade to black._

*

When you wake up, you're running. You're standing, posed, legs spread, arms crossed.

But you should be running. You've already started.

John Hart says, "Gray," and you say nothing.

You're not ready.

You grab a hand. It's Ianto's of course.

You grab John Hart before the rift's gone.

*

This time, you're still awake. So is John Hart. Ianto isn't.

"Not much for rift travel, is he?" John Hart says.

Of course he isn't. You're not either, not anymore, but you still remember the basics.

You say, "Where's Gray?" and John Hart smiles. You were expecting that.

"Figured that would get your attention."

It didn't.

It didn't because the first time, you hadn't believed him, not really, not truly. Maybe you don't this time either.

Except, you're here for a reason, right? Destiny.

So they say.

You don't believe in god, but you believe in Gray. Irony again.

You were dying. Maybe you were seeing things. Maybe you wanted so much to hope for salvation, for mankind, for John Hart who was your past, for all the people you've lost.

Maybe you're seeing things now.

You think, _Open your eyes_ , but John Hart's still here.

*

The first thing Ianto says is: "Oh great, you again." He was looking at John Hart.

You're a selfish bastard. You shouldn't have dragged Ianto along. Or maybe that was the point.

You don't understand at all, and it's giving you a headache. Should be someone else's turn to play the hero for a change even if they can't be as a dashing as you.

John Hart's saying, "Listen Eye Candy -"

This isn't going to end well. Maybe you shouldn't have brought Ianto. Maybe you shouldn't have come at all.

But John Hart said ‘Gray’, and you jumped. Like the first time.

Like the last time.

You say, "Where is she?"

"I can tell you where she was," John Hart says.

*

John Hart takes you to the Vega System. Like the Vegas System, but with slightly less lights.

You can't imagine Gray in a place like this, but then, you don't really know her that well.

Who does?

There's a temple, just like something out of a myth. Complete with a mysteriously vague priest even though he's in a suit and not a toga.

He reminds you of Ianto, but maybe it's just the suit.

"I'm looking for Gray," you say.

"Who?" the priest replies.

Figures. "The Oracle," you say.

"Oh right, she's gone. Been gone for decades." It's almost a dismissal, but the priest continues, "Unless if you're Captain Jack Harkness, then she wanted to pass this along: I'm not god. Go live."

You don't understand. You say it out loud.

"Who does?" the priest replies.

*

When you come out of the temple, John Hart is smirking and Ianto is clenching his jaw.

You've been gone too long.

Ianto's always been a respectful man. Of you, of privacy, and maybe even of the human spirit. He hasn't demanded the questions that you've dragged him half way across the galaxy to ask.

Maybe that's why it was his hand you grabbed.

When Ianto finally says, "What's going on, Jack?", you were waiting for him to ask.

*

The first time you met Ianto, you were really just looking for a good shag. You were just passing time then.

You ended up offering him Torchwood instead. It makes sense in hindsight, you suppose.

But Ianto ended up being obscenely good at his job, and you were obscenely grateful until he became ingrained in the stonework of Torchwood's walls, and you learned to reach out for his coffee and trust his smile.

You were beautifully deceived.

But you never knew your employees very well. It wasn't really your style. You were friendly, you were charming, but you were never actually any good at sharing.

You didn't know about Suzie's dad the first time she died, and you still don't much care. When you shot her, she was just another enemy, something evil to face with your gun not your heart.

When you found out about Lisa, you weren't really angry until Ianto started talking. Maybe you would have shot him. He was only Ianto then, and later, a puzzle. Ianto and his Cyberwoman, only the surprise was Ianto and not his secret.

Maybe you couldn't have pulled the trigger after all. If asked, you would have said "definitely" then, but you hesitated longer than you ever did with Suzie.

When you first met him, Ianto was just a pretty Welsh boy who's seen too much, but later he became Ianto who told jokes with a straight face and responded to your flirting with an easy smile and left you warm take out before leaving (hiding) for the night. And even as you took him for granted, you took him for granted _to be there_ , as much a part of Torchwood as your cot and the endless nights.

You're glad he's here. You take his hand, brush a dry kiss across his third knuckle.

You say, "Ok, here's what I know:"

*

If you stop and think about it, the story of Gray isn't very interesting.

You've only met her twice even in your long life, and both times you were dying, dead. Maybe you've never met her at all, and it was only ever a hallucination. You don't know.

With Gray, there's not much you do know.

Before you died for the first time, you knew her only from legend, mythology, whispers. Every time travel story needs an Oracle, someone who knows the end, seen it all. Maybe it was supposed to be the Doctor, but then, knowing the Doctor, maybe not.

You never really believed in Gray until you died. You thought you heard her say your name before the world went black. Probably, it was Rose.

Before you opened your eyes to life, though, you saw her. She was beautiful; you expected her to be. She was always beautiful in the stories.

She smiled, and you weren't afraid.

She said, "Jack," and you said, "Gray."

She didn't give you any answers.

But that's when you started listening to the stories.

You don't know why you believe. You're not usually the type to believe in dying visions. You've had too many of them over the years.

And yet.

When you tell Ianto about that lost year with the Master, he says only, "Sir."

Before you left the _Valiant_ , the Doctor had said, "Maybe Gray knows."

Neither is the answer you're looking for.

*

The end of the world happened like this:

Earth was old. Overcrowded, filthy, and dying from the inside. Of course it was the humans' fault, or maybe the animals just enjoyed having the convenience of such a fucked-up specie to blame.

You were just visiting. You didn't have any new loves at the moment and all the old ones were dead. You were feeling nostalgic.

Torchwood was dead. Torchwood died when aliens stopped coming in from the rift and went for the front the door instead: the sky. The Prime Minister came personally when the Boteians landed and shook your hand. "We'll take it from here," he said.

You had nodded back. You didn't care. You were expecting this.

You left.

It was absurdly easy to leave. You were itching for clean air, real trees. You still had your wrist strap, and the rift pulsed even after humans opened their world to the stars.

But you came back from time to time, across time. Sometimes, you sought out people you knew, listened to their stories. Sometimes, you wandered through the streets of cities to hear the buzz of life. Sometimes, you went back to a time when England was almost all countryside, and you sat in the twilight lit grass and breathed.

When John Hart found you, you were at a bar. When he said "nuclear devices", of course you laughed. You thought he would have gotten better at lying by then.

He wasn't lying.

When the first bomb went off, you were getting pissed.

You smile. This part doesn't make you very glamorous. You could have said you were looking up friends.

You pause, lets the moment fill with anticipation. You wait for Ianto to ask, "So what happened then?"

You laugh and say, "The end of the world."

*

You were exaggerating. It wasn't really the end. Humans are worse than cockroaches when it comes to being wiped out.

But it killed enough people, left the survivors a worse wreck than before. Left Earth and all its Earth-bound inhabitants on a date with extinction.

It hurt to breathe the air. The water was green and tasted like ash.

It felt just like the end of the world should feel even if it wasn't the real end.

You were dying. John Hart was dead besides you.

Then Gray came.

*

"And then I was on the roof," you say.

Ianto blinks.

"And you know the rest," you add.

"But that can't be it," Ianto says finally.

You know what he wants to ask. Human questions like, _What did you see? Who is she really? What does it mean? Why **me**?_

You don't blame him. You wish it made it sense. You've lived so many lifetimes and yet all you're left with are questions. You've never stopped asking.

You say, "I'm sorry." You mean it for him.

You say, "I don't know."

Ianto's still looking at you. His eyes remind you of Earth.

"Let's go home," he says.

*

"So that's it then?" John Hart says.

It seems like everyone's saying that.

You were supposed to be mad at him, but you barely remember why now. Time travel's alright, but the sudden jumps really messes with your memories.

You're not mad. The John Hart that you know is dead.

"I've got to go," you say.

"Sure you won't take me with you?" he asks.

You wonder how much he means it. You were never sure.

You want to say, "Ok, you can come." You're lonely too.

But you don't trust him, you know you'll never trust him, so you say instead, "Stay out of trouble."

He won't.

*

The trouble with the Time Agency, besides all the other troubles with the Time Agency, was that it was never very cohesive. Agents bumped into each from time to time, compared wrist straps, and moved on.

It was how most of them liked it.

When you met John Hart, he was trying to blackmail the Prime Minister of Japan with pictures of her mistress. The pictures were from the future.

You both knew it was against the Agency's rules. He didn't care. Neither did you.

Neither did the Agency. You're pretty sure it only had rules to appear legitimate enough for its tax deductions.

You stole the pictures. You saved the day. Then you slept with the Prime Minister's daughter after the banquet in your honour.

You only did it for fun. Then, you did most things because it amused you. You hadn't died yet. You hadn't known what it was like to be dragged back from the lulling nothingness of death to the shimmering chaos of life.

You were very young.

When you saw John Hart again, you were trapped in a time loop and he was suppose to rescue you.

He didn't.

But he did stay, and you fucked him like you weren't trapped and fought him like you couldn't die.

In the end, you can't believe it was five years. It could have been five months, five minutes.

When you got out, he said, "I could come with you."

You laughed. You actually thought it was funny.

You said, "You wouldn't be able to keep up." You meant it.

*

When Ianto said "home", you didn't think he really meant it. You thought he might want a bit of adventure first. You've forgotten the way humans once clung to the soil of their little planet like it was the only place that existed. It's been a long time.

You don't know what you're doing here.

You remember this Torchwood team. You remember them dying.

You don't want to go.

You think, _This is going to hurt._

*

When you open your eyes, it's dark again. You're coming out of the rift you left in.

Your team is still here. For a moment, you feel longing so sharp you feel almost like you were coming back for the first time, like finding the Doctor again, like breathing.

Seeing Ianto, you'd forgotten that you've lost them already. Ianto was surreal and real at once, but you couldn't think. You were distracted by Gray.

But now you're not.

Gwen looks at you with her human eyes. She says, "Back so soon?"

You know she's angry with you. You try to smile. "Missed me?" you say.

"No," she says, point blank. You don't believe her. She looks scared and young, and you're reminded that this was when you first promised yourself you'd try.

You say, "I had to know."

You say, "I'm sorry."

You're saying that a lot these days.

Later, when you're alone, she says, "Did you find any answers?" She's still angry, but she wants to know.

"No," you say, and she says, "Jack."

You remember that this was your favourite team.

*

Time passes.

You remember many of the cases. Often, it makes the solve rate faster. Sometimes it doesn't.

You catch yourself watching their hands, Tosh's fingers flashing across a keyboard, Owen's holding a scalpel, Gwen's taping up another victim’s profile.

You watch Ianto adjusting his tie, Ianto handing you a case file, Ianto lifting a coffee cup, a glass of scotch, a gun.

It doesn't feel like remembering. It's too new.

Your first night back, you took Ianto out to dinner, just the two of you. It was almost like the real date you promised except you kept staring at him like he was a dream. (In the future, you wouldn't dream about him for years, and then one day, you would and you'd wake up hard and crying.) Midway through, you forgot to finish a sentence, and then you tried to cover it up with a joke. You felt silly: it's your second chance, you should be more meaningful.

You think he forgave you anyway.

*

Then Ianto dies.

He was the first one to go the last time you did this. Last time, you didn't know.

This time, you did. You still weren't ready.

You told him not to come. You begged, on your knees, and later, holding him close. " _Please_ ," you said.

It was a routine save-the-world kind of mission. A lot of things went wrong, but you thought you knew all the variables this time.

You didn't. How could you?

Gwen messed up in a new way, and then Owen did as well. Tosh was perfect like usual, but you still ended up here. Before, this was when Ianto came, guns blazing, kicking down the door and knocking out the bad guys like he was the dashing hero instead of you.

(He is.)

You waited. You were praying.

He came anyway.

He came to save you. He came to save the world.

You remember this part. You remember it like it was yesterday, today.

You saw him live again, but now you're seeing him die. Give and take.

You wish you were still dying at the end of the world.

You wish you can go back and do it again.

You watch the bullet rush towards him in slow motion. You can't stop it.

You're not god.

*

The first time you saw Ianto was never that important.

The second time you saw him, looked and said _This is Ianto in front of me_ , you were holding a gun to his head, and he was keeping a Cyberwoman in your home.

The third time, you had just come back from the dead.

But the time that you remember, the one that matters, was after that lost year with the Master.

When the Doctor invited you to go with him, you were thinking about Ianto's smile. You were thinking about a hot bath in Ianto's bathtub, feeling his elbows and knees knocking against your own, falling asleep to his pitch-perfect humming of The Beatles.

So you said no.

You remember wanting to take him to bed, not for sex, but to tell him stories and watch him laugh, hear it, feel the waves vibrating against your skin.

You wanted to see him in t-shirt and jeans, reading a newspaper with his head propped against your shoulder.

You wanted him.

Maybe you weren't very good to him, good for him. Coming back, you wanted to be better.

This time too.

You wanted so much to make him happy. Maybe you messed things up by trying too hard. Maybe you should have tried harder. Maybe he understood and didn't care that sometimes you stared at him too long to be polite, like a memory you were trying to hold on to.

You remembering saying, "I love you," and he said "Jack?" like he didn't understand what it meant, so you kissed him and whispered _I love you I love you I love you_ against his mouth.

He said, "It's ok, Jack," except it wasn't because you knew you were going to lose him someday.

When it's all gone, you'll still be here to remember, this planet, these people.

It makes you want to cry.

It makes you want to die.

*

Ianto wakes up in your arms. You should have been sobbing but your eyes were dry.

You don't understand. You were holding him. He was cold.

"Jack," he says, "what's going on?"

You don't know. How could you? You can't explain it when it happened to you, and you can't explain it now.

When you died, you had the Doctor and Rose and the TARDIS. He only has you. You're not magical. You escape death time and time again, but you've never learned to share that ability.

It wasn't you, couldn’t have been. You think _Gray_ , and you're not sure.

"Jack, tell me what happened," he says again.

What can you say?

"You died," you say.

He's confused, of course. "But I can see you," he says, and, "I didn't think there was anything after."

"There isn't." There's nothing.

"But where am I then? How am I still-" _Living_ , he wants to say. You're glad he's stopped. It scares you more than him, this.

You didn't want him to die. You would have stopped it if you could. You tried to.

But you don't know if you would have brought him back.

If life's a lesson, then there's not much to learn from being dead except to be afraid, living in dread and excitement for the next time it happens. Waiting for the real end.

You don't want your life for him. You want him to be human Ianto with human passion and human determination.

You want him to be exactly as you remembered.

But sometimes, you think you want him forever.

You're still a selfish bastard. You don't know if you've made some irrevocable choice for him, but you're glad you're not alone.

"I'm sorry." It's all you can say.

He's looking at you and for a moment, he looks so much like the Ianto that you first met that you half expect him to call you "sir" and offer to put on some tea.

He's not that Ianto though. You hold him tighter.

*

Ianto doesn't die two more times.

Each time, you held your breath sure that this was it, you'll be alone in the morning.

But you're not. You wake up next to him.

You watch his blue eyes open, and you feel your heart beat faster with relief, worry.

You still don't understand why. No one does, not even the Doctor who says only, "Been talking to Gray again, have you?"

Maybe he's your reward, but you're sure you haven't done enough. Maybe a gift then, a gift to you from yourself.

When you were dying in the future, you wanted it to end, you wanted to be warm, you wanted to sleep. You wanted to hear Ianto laugh.

You still do. You tell him jokes and brush you fingers across the soft skin of his cheekbones.

At night, you don't hold him like he's delicate anymore. You breathe. You finally have time.

*

Rhys is the first to die after Ianto doesn't.

"Jack, bring him back," Gwen says. _Like you brought Ianto back_ , she means.

How? You can't.

Miracles happen to you and around you, but you're not in control. You're not even Gray.

"I'm sorry," you say, again, "but there's nothing I can do."

Gwen looks at you and then at Ianto. You know she's biting back accusations, but they're not fair. You would never trade Ianto for Rhys. On a better day, she wouldn't ask you to.

It doesn't surprise you when Gwen resigns. She did the first time, too. You don't Retcon her even though you should. She doesn't ask for it.

After she leaves for the last time, Ianto stays with you at the Torchwood Hub. You usually go back to his place. You've gotten used to sleeping in his bed.

He stays awake for a long time. You don't disturb him.

You think he's finally getting it. Living this way means watching people go. You learned this a long time ago, but now he knows as well.

You've changed history for him, because of him, with him.

This is what you have now: Ianto Jones, your lover. Barely forty in his linear timeline. He looks as young as when you first grabbed his hand and jumped.

*

Life goes on.

Ianto's quieter now, even more than before, more accepting, but he's still the first in line with a joke, a smirk. He still makes great coffee.

He helps you recruit a new girl, just like Gwen but blond and still young enough to believe in the meaning, the _goodness_ , of her job.

You breathe in her enthusiasm like fresh air.

Owen doesn't sleep with her though she's certainly pretty enough. You don't know why until Ianto tells you that Owen and Tosh are getting married. They didn't the first time. You didn't think that much has changed.

When Owen dies, you bury him in a proper grave. Tosh begged.

You go to his funeral. Not many people are there but enough so that you are momentarily confused. You've forgotten that there can be so many people existing outside of the Torchwood life.

Ianto holds your hand throughout the ceremony. Tosh is standing alone, but you have Ianto.

Maybe you are selfish, but you don't know how to change.

You hold his hand tighter.

When Tosh is dead, the last of the first team that he knew, Ianto says, "When can we leave?"

It was May. The front door was opening in a year. "Soon," you say.

*

When the Prime Minister lets you go, Ianto was smiling.

You watch him pack. No ties, no suits. He's ready for adventure. It makes you kiss him.

You walk about the harbour, not looking up but around even as the city buzzed with the curiosity of a newly discovered world, people pointing at the sky where the Boteian spaceship still hovered, stark metal against the late afternoon sky.

You've met the Boteians before. They bored you.

You stand with Ianto, enjoying the Plass for what it’s meant to be rather than the roof of your Hub. You don't ever remember stopping to look and _just breathe_ , and now you don't have any more time to say, _This is my home._

The lights are coming on, reflecting off the water around you. The fountain sparkles.

You're not ready yet. How can you be? You're not sure you can ever leave this dirty little planet that you've fallen in love with.

But that's not true. You can; you will. You're still caught up in the idea of second chances, but you have to move on.

Beside you, Ianto is telling a story about going to the cinema with his dad as a child.

You're glad you're not leaving everything behind.

He says, "Ready, Jack?"

You hold his hand. The rift pulsed around you.

*

The first place you go to is Chulu because they have ships. It's practical.

You find a citizen. "Can I have a ship?" you say, and he says, "Sure." You came in a good century. They hadn't re-discovered capitalism then.

You hadn't intended to stay long, but Ianto's staring at a lamppost when you get the ship. Once upon a time, you took him to the Vega Galaxy, but that's mostly neon lights, flashy advertisements, and bleached white desert. Nothing overly alien. You didn't stay long enough for him to wonder, to explore.

You forgot that he's not used to this. You forgot that he's not you.

So you let him see Chulu. There's not much here: they're on the minimalist trend right now, but you know he wants to look anyway.

You take him to the supermarket, to the post office, to dinner. Everything is new, not just the world but the very structure of society.

You think, _This is only the beginning._

The first night on the ship, he said, "I can't believe this is really happening." You kissed his laughing mouth and swung him in a waltz.

You said, "Ianto, we can go anywhere, _anytime_."

You said, "I want to show you to show you the universe."

*

You’ve been traveling for almost a century when you land in the Errari cluster. You know you're in trouble.

In this time, it's a new system, barely developed the capacity for speech. Seen it's first alien not more than a decade ago. It's billions of years in the future from when you left Earth, but here, it might as well be 27th century.

It's backwards, it's slow, it's quaint.

For Ianto, it's just like home.

You see his eyes light up in a way they hadn't when you showed him the temples of the Zebal Republic or the singing waterfalls of moons of Vana.

He's remembering, you know.

There's a surprising number of similarities to the England of his time. The cobbled architecture, the terrible cuisine, the monotone hair colours. The people even speak with a British accent even though logically, you know that's just the translation program. It doesn't help.

You think you're still safe though until you find him at a corner cafe. He's drinking tea and chatting up a local girl like he was born here.

Her name, ironically, is Lisa, even looks like Ianto's Lisa, same pretty eyes.

You can see why Ianto is tempted.

You've been together for longer than a normal human lifespan. It's a long time for most people. It's forever for you, you who once never stayed on one planet for longer than a Martian month.

It's not long enough.

But he's been getting tired. Maybe of you, but probably more of this life. You might be too if you didn't remember the cold emptiness of space, so like death, when he was warm and his heart thumped to the song of _alive alive alive_.

How can you give that up? You can't.

But you can give him some time.

"Maybe you should stay here," you say.

He's about to protest, but you roll on. "No, listen," you say, "rest for awhile. I've got some things to take care of anyway."

If he wasn't so tired, he wouldn't have let you go. Instead, he says, "Ok."

You only look back once. He was smiling at Lisa.

You head back to your ship. You have an appointment with Earth.

*

When John Hart finds you, you were expecting him.

He finds you in a bar. He says, "You have to help me."

You were expecting that, too.

He kidnapped a Princess. He's got another bomb linked to his DNA, set to denotation the moment he leaves Earth's atmosphere.

He's clever. They took his wrist strap, but he steals yours. He's always liked leaving through the backdoor.

Except you can't let him. You're drunk, but you still remember. You grab his wrist. "You can't use it," you tell him.

His hands already on the dials. "Why?" he says.

"Activating the rift, that's what sets off the bomb."

 _You never make it_ , you don't say. You don't want to explain. You're changing history already.

But then, you didn't travel back; history rewound. There's a difference. You can change things. Maybe you're suppose to.

Maybe it doesn't matter. You've lived it again, made new decisions, rewritten your life, and you're still here with John Hart and his bombs.

"So what do I do?" John Hart says, and you say, "Live."

*

You don't know why you save him. There were others you cared about more, others you wanted to save and others you couldn't. But he's the one you do.

Before Earth, you'd get together from time to time. It was harder than you remembered to arrange a meeting. You didn't live in linear time. Neither did he.

You exchanged stories, traded laughs. He was getting older, you weren't.

You never missed him, but you missed his casualness, his energy, his greed. You missed yourself, the you you were before you couldn't die. You weren't a good man but at least you were alive.

He knew you when you were mortal. "You were a bastard," he says.

You still are, just in new ways. It makes you laugh anyway.

When you went back to Earth, you went to meet him.

You stay with him. You hold him and kiss him and teach him about the beauty of staying still. You _live_ with him.

Once, you tell him you love him. You might have even meant it.

John Hart is 153 years old when he dies. He's older than he would have been, but he can't live forever.

You watch him close his eyes. Another friend dead.

There aren't many left that you can count on being alive. The Doctor, maybe, and Ianto.

*

When John Hart dies, you dream of Ianto. He was calling your name, "Jack, Jack, Jack..."

Suddenly, you have to find him, the same urgency of need to see him breathe like the first few moments after you watched him come back to life for the first time.

You know where to look, what time. You never would have forgotten.

You set your clock for ten years after you left. You figure he deserves some time for the ordinary life he never had.

Except when you get there, he and Lisa aren't married. They don't have kids or a house in the suburbs. They're just friends.

You don't understand. You thought that was what he wanted.

"Back so soon?" he says when you step down from your ship.

 _Missed me?_ you want to say, but you're afraid of the answer. You say it anyway, and he says, "Jack."

You look around. He's living by himself, but there are photos on the shelves of friends, lovers maybe. He's smiling in them.

He has a life here, if not the one you expected.

"Take me back," you say.

"You'll only leave again."

He has a point, but you're not wrong to want him. "Then come with me," you say.

"What if I don't want to?" he says.

You smile. "You're lying," you tell him. You know he is. He's looking at the ship instead of you.

"What if I have a destiny here?" he says. "Maybe if you hadn't come, if I don't leave, I would have conquered the world, brought peace, cured death."

"You couldn't have because I came for you," you say. You like to think you're letting him choose, but you never really doubted his answer. You've already won.

"I was always going to come for you," you say.

 _I love you_ , you mean.

He's looking you in the eye now. "I wasn't waiting for you," he says. You believe him.

"I know," you say. "You were living."

*

Most of you can't believe he's here. The rest of you doesn't know that he's ever not been here.

He's wearing a suit again. It makes you smile.

You're kissing him, and he's kissing you, and sometimes, it's slow and lazy and sometimes, it's fast and messy, and you don't remember sex being this easy and simple in a long time.

You're probably going too fast. You should sit and talk, apologize.

You don't care. Neither does he.

You feel the warmth of him around you, the pulse of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest with each intake of breath.

Finally, you're not holding onto him anymore, you think. You're making new memories.

You trace of the corner of his lips. You missed him.

Later, over shared coffee and starcharts, you say, "Where do you want to go?" You think of all the places he hasn't seen, all the places you can still go to.

"California," he says, smilling. "Never been there."

You laugh. "What time?" you say.

"Now," he says.

*

Ianto talks about his past almost less than you do. Some days, he's still a bit of a mystery.

You were lying on the beach when he starts talking. The sun was about to set.

"When I first met you, I'd just lost everyone," he says. _Except for Lisa_ , he doesn't say. ( _Even Lisa_ , you think.)

"I thought you were giving me salvation." His voice is soft, Welsh vowels harmonizing with the roar of the Pacific. You like listening to him speak; you always have and probably always well.

"But you weren't, Jack," he says, "I could only ever save myself."

You stroke a finger across his opened face palm. You're waiting for him to tell you what to do.

"You've been alive for a very long time," you finally say.

"You've been alive for longer," he returns.

You want to laugh. "Not many can outlive me," you say because it's true, because Ianto understands.

He says, "I wouldn't want to."

You smell the salt tinged air, feel the shifting sand beneath you, the warmth of Ianto besides you. You're on Classic Earth, arranged for the viewing pleasure of the rich and infamous, but it's more real than you've ever remembered.

You didn't know Ianto liked the ocean so much until he chose here. You're glad you came.

He turns to you. "I'd like to stay here awhile," he says.

You smile.

"We can stay forever," you say.

The sun's staining the ocean the last blush of tangerine. You should head back soon before it gets too dark to see.

You pull him closer. You've got time.

*


End file.
